We were all sitting around the enormous firepit, and there were several conversations going on, but the silence had been deafening in this particular area.
Wyatt hadn’t said a word to me, even though we were sitting so close to each other that our bodies were almost touching.
Done with my own dinner, I took a huge slug of my wine as I watched him, waiting for him to respond.
I’d finally decided that the strain between the two of us was too much.
Okay, maybe it didn’t matter to Wyatt.
I couldn’t read him at all.
But it had been way too much for me.
I wasn’t used to sitting this close to someone in complete and utter silence.
Maybe I didn’t make friends as easily as I used to, but I was generally polite and friendly.
Dammit! Maybe I wouldn’t be so uncomfortable if he didn’t look and smell so incredible.
Maybe he was an intolerable jerk, but he smelled like hot sex and sin, and he was annoyingly attractive.
He looked a little tired, and he was obviously hungry, but it didn’t detract from his animal magnetism or the way I reacted to that overwhelming aura he seemed to emanate from every pour of his powerful body.
Wyatt Durand was tall, probably a few inches over six feet, and the man was built like a tank. All muscle and brute strength. Strangely, I didn’t find that unappealing. In fact, it had me squirming in my chair rather uncomfortably.
His short, black hair was slightly disheveled, and judging by the stubble on his face, he hadn’t shaved in a while. But I supposed I’d probably look the same way if I’d just done a very long, international flight. Surprisingly, those small imperfections were a sexy look on him, too. I much preferred the man who didn’t look as perfect or as foreboding as he had at Chase and Savannah’s reception.
The sleeves of his crisp, white, and probably very expensive dress shirt were rolled up, and I was unexplainably fascinated by the strong muscles in his forearms.
He didn’t look nearly as buttoned up or arrogant as he had last time I’d seen him.
Still, he reeked of power, strength, and irresistible, alpha male. The fact that I suddenly found those traits overwhelmingly alluring was probably beyond dangerous.
We were sitting way too close for me not to notice things I hadn’t when we were in his kitchen.
I hated it, but I could hardly move away from him without someone catching the fact that my close proximity to Wyatt unnerved me.
My breath caught as he finally turned his head to look at me, his dark gray eyes pinning me to my chair.
“Your assessment was correct,” he finally answered with a careless shrug. “There’s plenty of people who would agree with you.”
His penetrating stare probably should have prompted me to flee as quickly as possible, but it didn’t. Because there was almost no distance between us, I could see that there was something in his gaze that was more self-mocking than conceited right now.
“I still shouldn’t have said it,” I mumbled.
“I think I was more put out that you downed a glass of whiskey that I’d poured for myself,” he replied drily. “After that long reception, I needed it.”
Amused, I shot him a small smile. “I think I needed it more than you did. It was a long day. Two of my crew called in sick right before the reception. I was working with a short staff, and I wanted to do a good job for Chase and Vanna.”
“Mission accomplished,” he commented. “The food was amazing. No one would have ever known that you didn’t have a full staff. I’d definitely know that you cooked this dinner tonight, too, even if Tori hadn’t shared that information already. It’s fantastic. Possibly even better than the food at the reception, which I didn’t think was possible.”
Warmth spread over my body at his compliment, and I softened just a little toward Wyatt Durand.
“You like it?” I asked. “What’s your favorite? I was testing out some new side dish recipes.”
He put his empty plate on the side table. “I’ve never had mac and cheese like yours, and I have no idea what you did to that steak, but it’s the best I’ve ever had. Honestly, everything was great. I haven’t had a dinner like this one in a long time, and I haven’t gotten to the caramel apple cake yet.”
“That’s new for me, too,” I said conversationally. “It’s an old recipe of mine with a new twist. Try it. I’m looking for honest opinions.”
I knew I’d get a blunt opinion from Wyatt, but I was totally open to constructive criticism. It was my job to pay attention to feedback on my food and to correct anything that wasn’t quite right.
Most of the tension in the air faded as I watched him grab the cake and shovel a large bite into his mouth.
The rapturous look on his face as he chewed said it all.
If nothing else, this infuriating man and I could definitely bond over food.
He loved to eat, obviously.
And I loved to cook things that made people happy.
He didn’t say a word as he finished his dessert.
When he finally put the empty dessert plate on top of the larger one on his side table, he turned to me and grinned.
The smile transformed his usually grim expression, and it was one of the most beguiling things I’d ever seen.
Who knew that Wyatt was actually capable of smiling?
“Also one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” he informed me. “Where in the hell did you learn to cook like that?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been cooking most of my life. You might already know that my Aunt Millie is an amazing cook. She taught me everything she knew when I was young. Then I went to culinary school in Chicago, and I stayed there for years, working my way up in a Michelin-star restaurant until I was a head chef.”
He surveyed me with those mesmerizing eyes as he asked, “What did you do after that? I think Kaleb once mentioned that you opened your own place in Billings, and that it was a huge success.”
Maybe I should have been ready for that question. Kaleb used to brag about my successes all the time. I answered as briefly and as vaguely as possible. “I did, and it was, but in the end, it just…didn’t work out. I left the restaurant in Chicago to move back to Montana. I missed my roots and making simpler comfort food. As you can probably tell by looking at me, I appreciate hardier food. Shelby’s was a restaurant that celebrated elevated comfort food, just like I made for dinner tonight.
I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions that I didn’t want to answer.
His eyes roamed over me, and I squirmed under his assessing gaze. “There isn’t a fucking thing wrong with the way you look,” he said in a deep voice that wasn’t meant to be sensual, but it was to me.